


drop all the pieces of your past (i'll keep them safe with me)

by itsagamefortwo



Series: five times something goes wrong and one time it goes right (jatp) [5]
Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: (because ghosts), (like. paracetamol lmoa), (nothing in major detail but blood is mentioned), 5+1 Things, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Canonical Character Death, Gen, M/M, Medication, Swearing, but i put the angst tag because i am often wrong lmoa., i would like it on record that i dont think this is very sad.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28879707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsagamefortwo/pseuds/itsagamefortwo
Summary: Alex gets a fanny pack for his tenth birthday and starts carrying the essentials, until one time he doesn't.aka 5 times alex has just the right thing in his fanny pack +1 time he doesn'tLuke’s constant scrapes were why Alex had started to carry around band-aids and disinfectant and bandages in the first place. All stored carefully in his fanny pack along with his inhaler and extra guitar picks and a granola bar for Reggie.
Relationships: Alex Mercer & Julie Molina, Alex Mercer & Luke Patterson (Julie and The Phantoms), Alex Mercer & Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms), Alex Mercer/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Bobby | Trevor Wilson & Alex Mercer, Bobby | Trevor Wilson & Alex Mercer & Luke Patterson & Reggie Peters
Series: five times something goes wrong and one time it goes right (jatp) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1986928
Comments: 19
Kudos: 154





	drop all the pieces of your past (i'll keep them safe with me)

**Author's Note:**

> **trigger warnings!!** blood mentions in part one (but it's actually juice), part three and part four (nothing major or detailed, just the word). medication mentioned in part 5 (just paracetamol tho). slight implied homophobia in +one.   
> also there is willex content but it's in the last section :)

_**one.** _

On his tenth birthday his parents took him to the mall and told him he could pick out anything that he wanted from one store, courtesy of his grandparents. Which, for a ten year old, was a big decision to make. Because there were a lot of things that he wanted.

Alex had dragged them from shop to shop, looking through every piece of clothing, every accessory, every record and tape. There were a lot of things to choose from. He really hated having to make a decision.

It was pure luck when he finally found the thing he wanted. Tucked away behind backpacks and satchel bags and flimsy looking tote bags, Alex found the fanny pack. It was dark grey and made a funny sound when he scratched at the material with his nails. It was also the perfect size to fit his inhaler and a snack and a pen and, if he did it right, probably even a single drum stick.

(The brand new and shiny drum kit currently sitting in his garage at home was his main birthday present, and Alex was more than excited for Luke and Reggie and Bobby to come over later and see it, and now he could show them his new fannypack and they could fill it with all the essentials that ten year olds needed.)

Everyday he woke up and got dressed, the fanny pack would find its way buckled across his chest and he’d check it had everything he needed inside. Inhaler and tissues and crumpled up dollar bills and a pen and a snack, just in case. Because Reggie always got hungry and there were only so many times they could bother their parents before they got annoyed.

They’re sitting in tree house that Reggie’s dad had built – back when Reggie’s dad and mom didn’t spend so much time fighting and his older brother was still around and Reggie didn’t flinch at doors banging – scraps of paper and forgotten homework scattered on the wood.

They’re _supposed_ to be doing homework. Like they do every Saturday morning before they all give in to Luke’s pouting and bike over to Bobby’s place to ‘rehearse’, (it’s more like, they’re all playing at the same time in different keys, but they’re _eleven_. A killer band isn’t created overnight.) but Luke hasn’t shown up yet and Reggie is on his third candy bar and Bobby gave up on maths homework in favour of his game boy. Alex would be more stressed about the turn of events if it didn’t happen every Saturday.

“Jump, jump, jump, dude! You gotta jump!”

“I know, you saying it over and over isn’t helping man,” Bobby grits out and Alex watches as Reggie hovers over his shoulder, eyes wide and practically hanging off his arm.

“Look out for – _Oof_. So close man. Shoulda jumped,” Reggie pats Bobby on the shoulder, just dodging as the other boy's elbow moves back to try and catch him in the ribs.

“I swear to god Reg –” Bobby starts and Alex is readying himself either to intervene or move out of the way when Luke’s head pops up through the hole on the floor, wide smile and messy hair and eyes gleaming with some kind of mischief.

“Guys!” They watch as he pulls himself up and into the tree house, they’re all knees bumping and elbows narrowly missing sides and Alex spends several long seconds worrying that this will be the day they no longer all fit. That they’ve finally outgrown the tree house. But then Luke shuffles back, dropping his backpack into the centre and Reggie bends one knee to rest his head on and Bobby drops his hands into his lap, game boy still beeping away.

“I had the best idea,” Luke starts, unzipping his bag and rummaging through it for something, “I was watching this film last night, right? I don’t know what it was, one of those weird ones that’s on at 2am. Not the point. Anyway so there was this group of friends right and they were all moving away and didn’t want to stop being friends so they did this blood pack? And Reggie,” he grunts as he pulls a textbook out of his bag and tosses it aside, Alex feels his brows pull together as he starts to follow Lukes train of thought, “The other day you said you were worried about us going up to middle school. So I thought why not do a blood pact?”

Luke still has his attention firmly on his bag, trying to find something, so he misses the alarmed look that Alex shoots at Bobby and the responding grin that graces Reggie’s face. He can see exactly how this will play out. Luke will make the first cut and Reggie will suddenly remember he doesn’t like the sight of blood and Bobby will go too deep and Alex will have to find a way to get the three of them down a tree without crying. 

“Dude, we can’t do a _blood_ pact!”

“Why not?” Reggie asks, lips sliding down in a frown.

“Yeah, why not?” Luke echoes and he’s got half of something pulled out of his bag that Alex can’t identify. But it doesn’t look like a knife, so that’s a little reassuring.

“Because,” he starts slowly pointing first at Reggie, “You don't like the sight of blood for starters.”

Alex watches as Reggie’s mouth forms a small ‘o’, his head bobbing up and down as if he’d forgotten that fact, but Luke rolls his eyes and finally pulls his hand out of his bag and with it comes a carton of something.

“I know that, I didn’t mean a _real_ blood pact,” he shakes his head and Alex blinks, thoroughly confused, “The blood bits’ not the important part, it’s just the whole y’know, promising we’ll always be friends. But we still need to do something kinda gross to make it _meaningful_ , so I went and bought tomato juice. It’s why I was late.”

The grin is back on Reggie’s face and even Bobby is nodding along now. Alex looks from the cartoon in Luke's hands to his friends faces before blowing out a sigh because well. It wasn't the worst idea Luke had had and it would be nice. For them to make a pact, to always be friends. For nothing to change between them.

“How do we do this then?” He asks and it's worth it, giving in, to see the bright smile take over Lukes face as he launches into his plan.

Alex should have expected something to go wrong, it was sort of his job in the group. To worry. But he’d gotten so caught up in the moment, in the sentiments and little speeches Luke said they each had to make, that he forgot to worry about the next stage.

It almost happens in slow motion, Bobby reaches for the carton to take his drink at the same moment that Reggie tries to pass it to him and their hands sort of collide mid pass and suddenly the carton is tipping to the side and red liquid is cascading to the floor. All over their still scattered homework.

“Crap!” In his haste to try and stop the still spilled drink Reggie drops the thing entirely, sending even more of it pouring over the wood and creeping towards them. Luke makes a grab for the juice, trying to scoop it up in his hands and if Alex’s mind wasn’t halfway to panic, he’d have probably burst out laughing. On autopilot Alex’s hands reach up for the fanny pack across his chest, pulling the zipper and digging through for the new pack of tissues that he’d stuffed in there that morning. Almost like he knew something was going to happen.

All their homework is ruined – Alex can’t _wait_ to explain this one to their teacher on Monday – and when they all climb down the tree an hour later they all watch as a trail of red slides down the bark. Despite the mess it had caused, Alex has to give it to Luke, the tomato juice really did look like blood. And he feels closer to his three best friends, which he guesses is worth using his whole supply of tissues.

_**two.** _

“Fuck!”

It’s not really the first thing Alex wants to hear as he steps into their rehearsal space. Aka Luke’s parent’s basement that they’d reluctantly agreed to let them use until Bobby’s parents agreed to let them clear out _their_ garage. It was so **annoying** , waiting for their parents to agree to simple things.

His eyes glance around the mostly empty space, jumping from the fold up chairs and second hand amps and his drums and Reggie’s abandoned bass before landing on Bobby who’s kneeling on the ground near the back wall, guitar leaning against the chipped concrete.

“You okay?” Alex says and flinches when Bobby flinches, turning around quickly to look at him. Either Bobby was too wrapped up in whatever was wrong and hadn’t heard him or Alex had finally perfected walking silently and could start sneaking downstairs at night for a snack.

“I just–” he breathes out a sigh, gesturing helplessly at his guitar and for the first time Alex notices the missing string, “It snapped and I can’t get the new one on.”

“Oh,” that doesn’t really seem worth the tense set of Bobby’s shoulders or the slight shaking of his fingers as he tries to get the new string out of the packet. With a small frown Alex kneels down next to his friend and carefully takes the packet out of his hands. “Want some help?”

As soon as the strings are out of his hands Bobby seems to collapse a little, shoulder against the wall and head dropping with a soft thud, eyes following as he opens the pack. Of them all, Bobby is the most closed off about his feelings, which Alex supposes, isn’t actually that weird for a thirteen year old. But when Luke –- who’s never been able to keep emotions off his face or out of his songs -- and Reggie -- who is never shy about laying his head on your shoulder and telling you he’s sad -- are your friends, it gets a little weird. Even Alex knows he’s crap at hiding how he feels about stuff.

They're three open books with a locked vault.

Because Bobby has a special skill of hiding his feelings behind a mask of indifference and jokes that he’s never offered to teach them. Which is normally fine, but sometimes things leak through and one of them notices that somethings wrong, like right now. Alex has watched him restring his guitar without issue so many times before, never once have his fingers shook.

Chewing on his bottom lip, Alex tries to decide if he should push or just wait it out or ask when the others are around so he can’t avoid the question. His last option makes him frown, because he’d hate it if they did that to him. Put him on the spot about something. And what if there wasn’t even anything wrong and Alex was just overthinking it? Maybe Bobby was just tired, or this string was just particularly tricky?

“Dude, I can practically hear you thinking.” Bobby says, huffing out a shallow laugh and Alex’s eyes widen a little as he looks up in time to see him shuffle around so his back is against the wall, legs stretching out in front of him.

“Sorry,” Alex starts, hands freezing in the air.

“Nah it’s--” he shakes his head, one shoulder shrugging as he frowns at nothing, “It’s fine.”

Alex thinks that’s the end of it, that Bobby isn’t going to say anything else and he’ll just have to wait it out and pretend that something isn’t clearly wrong. Putting the string down he pulls his fanny pack around so he can reach the little pocket hidden on the back (he’s pretty sure you’re meant to keep money in it, but well, he rarely has more than a few dollars on him) and pulls out the little multi-tool that his dad had gotten him for Christmas. Something about ‘ _being a man now_ ’ and how ‘ _you can help a cute girl out_ ’. So far all he’d used it for was clipping strings and once to unscrew a vent when Luke accidentally pushed his notebook through.

“I think my parents are getting a divorce.”

That almost makes him choke on his own spit, head whipping around to look at Bobby and all thoughts of his dad leaving his head.

“What?” he doesn’t mean to say it so loud, but judging by the way Bobby winces he must have practically shouted it. “Sorry, I just--” he doesn’t know what to say, mouth opening wordlessly. None of them have the _best_ home lives, all their relationships with their parents have their issues.

But Bobby’s have always been -- well not the most _reliable_ , but most consistent. Together, but distant. Together, but not home each weekend. Together, but happy? Alex feels a little like his world view has been tilted. Because if anyone's parents should be getting a divorce, shouldn’t it be Reggie’s? He bites at his lip at the thought, instantly regretting it.

“Pretty sure my mom caught my dad sleeping with his secretary,” he says with a small frown, wiping his cheek across his shoulder and Alex drops the multi-tool on top of the string and shuffles his way across the floor until he’s sitting next to Bobby, backs against the wall. “Which is pretty fucking cliche of him. But yeah. I caught them fighting about it last night.”

Alex doesn’t know what to say or do. This isn’t exactly a conversation he’d come prepared for or thought he’d ever have to have. Alex was still trying to remember his new school schedule, he didn’t have the time to prepare for possible emotional family conversations. He wishes Luke was here, or Reggie, so he didn’t feel so much pressure to say the right thing.

“That sucks man,” he blows out a breath, drawing his knees up so he can rest his hands on his things, fingers tapping across his jeans. “You wanna stay at mine tonight? We can rent _Back to the Future_ and eat my sisters stash of popcorn?”

“Can we get the second one too?” There’s a slight smile tugging at Bobby’s lips and Alex returns it, fingers stilling as he feels some of the tension in _his_ shoulders release.

“Course man, can’t just watch the first.”

_**three.** _

There was an unspoken knowledge in their friend group.

Luke had a tendency to get into fights he couldn’t win.

Sure, they were almost always in deference of Reggie or Bobby or him, but Alex really wished he’d stop getting into them. Or would at least start to _win._ Honestly, you’d think by now that Luke would know how to throw a better punch, or least know how to _dodge_ one.

It was a little embarrassing, the amount of fights that Luke had lost -- not that Luke saw it that way. Any fight that resulted in him sporting a black eye or split lip, not his friends, was a win to him. Which was a nice sentiment, but Alex was fairly sure that his idiotic heroics were going to give him a heart attack one day.

Luke’s constant scrapes were why Alex had started to carry around band-aids and disinfectant and bandages in the first place. All stored carefully in his fanny pack along with his inhaler and extra guitar picks and a granola bar for Reggie.

It was also why Alex wasn’t all that surprised when Luke found him after school, holding his wrist carefully against his chest with one hand and trying to wipe a dribble of blood off his lip on his shoulder. A split lip, a scrap across his cheek, and once he got a better look, Alex was pretty sure he’d find split knuckles too.

“Have you got a band-aid or something?” Luke’s words come out a little mumbled as he tries not to reopen the cut on his lip and Alex just raises an eyebrow at him. A band-aid? _Really_?

Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment Alex mentally counts to ten, reminds himself that his friend probably has a valid reason for looking like this.

Even though it’s only been twenty minutes since he last saw him. All he had to do was wait by their bikes while Alex went to talk to their history teacher about something. Twenty minutes alone and he’d found himself a fight.

“That’s –” he starts, then shakes his head, letting his shoulders drop as he breathes out a sigh and reopens his eyes, “Okay. Come on.”

Most of the school has cleared out as he leads them towards an empty bench, pushing Luke down onto it and pulling at the zip of his fanny pack to dig out the little homemade first aid kit he’d put together in a ziplock bag.

“Do I want to ask what happened?” He holds out a hand palm up for Luke to put his injured one in, biting his lip as he inspect the split skin and dried blood. It’s not as bad as he’d thought it would be, and it means Luke at least got _one_ punch in this time.

“Some guys were laughing cause Bobby tripped getting on the bus and-” Luke hisses out a breath as Alex pours some water over his hand and starts gently dabbing at the cuts with a tissue, “Reggie dropped his bag when he tried to help him up. And I told ‘em it wasn’t funny and they said it was and I said it wasn’t and–- you get it.”

Luke shrugs up at him, starts trying to chew on his bottom lip before remembering it’s hurt and gives Alex a sheepish smile. Which is just annoying. Because Alex is the one trying to be annoyed here, trying to keep a stern look at his face even as locks of blonde hair fall in front of his eyes and he has to blow them away.

“You know you don’t have to start a fight every time someone’s mean to us, right?” He balls up the damp bloody tissue to put in the bin later and reaches for the cheap roll of bandages that he’d swiped from his mom's first aid kit at home. (All his medical knowledge comes from his mom, from watching her volunteer at church feats and garden parties as to who to go to when you got a little hurt. For someone with such a fully stocked box of medical tools, she sure did just pass out band-aids and suggest a glass of water a lot.)

“First, I didn’t actually start this fight. The one with the lip piercing threw the first punch,” Luke points his uninjured hand at him, like he’s just made a good argument before his lips pull down into a frown. “And I know I don’t have to. But I–- People are mean to you guys about stuff that doesn’t make sense. I don’t like that. Plus everyone knows that you guys would never do anything back, except maybe Bobby if it was _really_ bad, and I just want them to know I think their assholes.”

It feels like there's more to it then that, Luke doesn't supply anymore insights into his thought process and Alex is too worried about their upcoming history text to push it today. 

"You’re so-” Alex starts but stops himself, rolling his eyes as he ties off the bandage and shakes his head at Luke. “That’s a really stupid reason to get in all these fights, you do know that right?”

“Yup!” He inspects his hand, the off-white bandage wrapping around his knuckles and flexes his fingers to test how tight it’s tied, then his eyes drift to the ziplock bag and the band-aids, “You got any of those cool glow in the dark ones?”

Alex opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again, but no words come out. It still surprises him, even after being friends for so long, how willing Luke is to get hurt for them. How he doesn’t seem to see any issue with it. He really hopes that one day he won’t feel the need to take a punch for any of them, that he won’t _need_ to. But until then Alex supposes he doesn’t mind being a fourteen year old first responder. It’s kinda fun, sometimes. Like when he gets to dictate who gets which band-aid.

“You used the last glow in the dark one on Sunday. So you’re stuck with trucks.”

He’s still wearing the band-aid with little trucks on a dirt track across his cheek when he comes into school the next day and Alex really tries to stay annoyed at him. But it’s kinda hard when the only reason he’s got the cut is because he loves his friends. So Alex just rolls his eyes fondly and makes a mental note to ask his mom for glow in the dark band-aids when she next goes to the store.

_**four.** _

“You think _Ron’s_ got the new Garth Brooks record?”

At least, that’s what Alex _thinks_ Reggie asks, because it’s more like a mumbled group of sounds as the other boy stuffs a large forkful of pasta into his mouth. He glances at Luke, eyebrow raised to see if he’d understood the question right. And judging by the face Luke pulls, he thinks he did.

“I mean, probably. But we’ve been over this. No country in the van.”

Alex knows he’s trying to look stern and serious, Reggie knows it too. But Luke’s nose is scrunched up and his eyebrows are drawn together and his lower lip almost looks like it’s about to start _quivering_. Stern and serious isn’t the first thought that comes to mind. Cute, adorable, puppy like, sure. Stern or angry? Never.

“You’re just jealous,” Reggie starts, gulping as he swallows his mouthful and makes them both wait as he dramatically takes a sip of his soda too, “You wish you could do a country twang. It’s okay Luke-y, not everyone is musically gifted.”

He bites the end of his straw to keep from laughing at the look of annoyance that crosses Luke’s face, the desired reaction if Reggie’s widening grin is anything to go by.

“Dude you’ve done it now,” he mutters softly, but he can’t really find it in him to be too mad about the rant that Reggie has just triggered. Because it’s the first time in weeks that Reggie has smiled fully, and the bruise on his left cheekbone is now a faded purple and the arm he had been extra careful about touching is resting full length on the table as he taps the end of his fork on the wood.

Luke seems to know it too, if the gentle smile that briefly crosses his face when Reggie looks away for a moment is anything to go by. It had been to Luke's house that he’d run too, and Alex is honestly pretty proud of his friend for not leaping out his bedroom window to go fight Reggie’s dad the second he’d shown up. Alex was fairly confident that if Reggie asked to play nothing but country music for the next ten years Luke would agree if it meant they’d get to see his full blown smile without hints of sadness.

Sometimes, Alex wished he had half the confidence and determination that Luke had. Wished that when his fight or flight instincts were put to the test his reaction wasn’t flight. That he wasn’t always a little bit terrified of what would happen if he was honest with everyone, of what would happen if he threw a punch instead of trying to talk something out.

Probably just result in spending more money on band-aids and bandages.

Blinking the thoughts from his head, the blonde tunes back into the conversation. Pros and cons of having _one_ country song on their demo.

“Come on! We’d all so rock a cowboy hat,” Reggie punctuated his point by stabbing his fork into the table, plastic progs snapping and flying into the air. “Fuck sake,” he mutters, a little mournfully as he pulls his arm back in to look at the one remaining bent prong and then down at his still half full container of pasta.

“I think the fork disagrees with the cowboy hats,” Luke grins, flicking one of the little plastic pieces at Reggie who just pouts for a moment longer.

And Alex can see where his brain goes, can practically track the thought process and the solution he comes up with as Reggie tosses his fork at Luke and starts to try and pick up the food with his fingers. But before he gets that far, Alex is pulling another fork out of his fanny pack, metal and wrapped in a napkin.

(Someone had once said to be prepared for all possible situations. Sixteen year old Alex had decided that meant he should start carrying extra cutlery around. Just in case. In case of what, he hadn’t known, but apparently it wasn’t a totally crazy idea, so screw you Bobby for laughing at it.)

“Here.”

Reggie accepts the fork, pout turning to a smile and sticking his tongue out at Luke who just rolls his eyes.

“Alex’ll do a country song with me, won’t you?” Both pairs of eyes are looking at him now and he doesn’t know if Reggie is being a 100% serious about a country song for their demo or wearing cowboy hats on stage, but he does know that either way it’ll make Luke do his cute angry face again and well. Alex can’t resist making him make that face.

“Oh yeah. We’d rock cowboy hats.”

_**five.** _

Being dead was -- not what Alex had expected. And it’s a little weird, because growing up he’d spent a lot of time thinking about what happened after you died. Where you went and what you could do and who would be there.

His parents were very insistent on ‘ _be a good person in life, don’t commit any sins and get into heaven_ ’ so, when they’d died and ended up in a dark room, Alex had thought that was proof that being gay _really was_ a sin and his parents had been right and now he’d dragged his best friends into hell with him. Luke might blame himself for them dying, and Reggie might blame himself for them being eternity linked, but Alex would always blame himself for that 25 year black room limbo.

Even if it wasn’t his fault. But he couldn’t convince the others that it wasn’t _their_ fault, and they couldn’t convince him it wasn’t _his_ fault and it was a loop they’d been stuck in for months now.

Julie called them all idiots for it. Fondly. With an eye roll. And a gentle smile when she’d pull them into a group hug.

Because they could do that now.

Hug her. So they did it a lot.

Group hugs and side hugs and high fives and piling onto her bed on a Sunday afternoon to watch one of the many Disney films they’d missed out on. They all latched onto her more than they already had.

Julie had pulled them out of the dark room -- **hell** \-- and back into the light and then she’d _saved_ them from zapping out of existence. Reggie might insist she was a witch and Luke would say a star, but Alex, who had a pretty rocky relationship with religion and God, was fairly confident in calling Julie an angel. (He was also willing to bet good money on in a fight, between a god, death and Julie, that Julie would win.)

And she didn’t seem to mind that they’d gotten a little... _clingy_ over the last few months since the zapping had stopped. Which was nice, that they hadn’t annoyed her enough to send them packing yet. That she seemed just as attached to them as they were to her.

It’s with that thought in his mind that Alex knocks on her bedroom door. Julie loves them, Julie only invokes the boundaries rule when they snoop through her stuff, Julie isn’t about to tell them to leave because Alex is a little bored. At least he hopes she won’t.

“Come in.”

He almost misses her response, both because of his mildly spiralling thoughts and because her voice is soft, quite. Now his thoughts turn to worry as he pokes his head through the doors, eyes immediately landing on Julie tucked into her bed, surrounded by pillows and curtains closed. His brows pull together as he hesitantly steps through the door.

“Are you okay?” He asks, trying to keep his voice as low as hers had been. Slowly she lifts her head from the pillow, brushing curls out of her eyes as she looks at him with a small smile.

“Oh Alex, hey. I-- yeah, I’m fine. Just--” she trails off, blinks a little blearily at him and for the first time he realises that he’s woken her up. Shit. “Not feeling too great. Was trying to nap.”

“Shit, sorry, I’ll go. I didn’t know you weren’t well, I’ll um yeah. I’ll go.” He’s got half his leg through the door when she calls his name, a slight laugh in her voice and looks at her over his shoulder.

“It’s okay, you can stay. I wasn’t really getting much rest anyway.”

He opens his mouth to ask if she’s sure, but Julie’s already shuffling around in her bed, moving pillows and lifting the duvet for him to climb in next to her. Alex hesitates for a moment, bites his cheek before turning around fully and walking over, kicking his shoes off before sliding under the cover and making himself comfy.

“Why do you have so many pillows?” He asks, fluffing one up behind his head and moving another one to fill the space between the edge of the bed and the little side table.

“Don’t know,” she shrugs, and he knows she’s watching him with amusement when he repositions the pillow next to her head so it’s straight. He frowns a little at her answer because, well, that’s not _really_ an answer. How does one person have like, ten pillows on their bed and not know _why_ or _how_?

“That's not-- okay,” he sighs, letting it go, because now that he’s next her, Alex can see she’s shivering a little and her cheeks look flushed and on instinct he reaches out his hand to lay it against her forehead. She lets out a small hiss and Alex moves to move away when her hand comes up, warm fingers wrapping around his wrist to keep his hand in place.

“Stay there, your hands are cold, they feel nice.” And well, they might make fun of Luke for not being able to say no to Julie, but so far he hasn’t been able to do it yet either. So he keeps his hand on her forehead and moves his other to gently cup her chin and part of her cheek until he’s basically holding her head up in his hands, he watches as her eyes flutter shut.

“Have you taken anything?” He tries to keep his voice quiet, not wanting to disturb her too much but her eyes open and she shakes her head, blowing out a sigh as she moves herself out of his hold, head hitting one of her many pillows.

“All we have is cough syrup and dad’s out and I didn’t want to bother Victoria.”

So she’d taken herself to bed and tried to tackle whatever illness she had alone? Alex frowns at her, lets out a small tut as he pulls his fanny pack across his chest, unzips it and roots around for the ziplock bag of first aid things before pulling out a half used pack of paracetamol, leaving the bag on the bed. He’s dead, and so are his most clumsy friends, they don’t really need band-aids anymore.

There’s a bottle of water on the table next to him which Alex grabs, pops out two of the little white tablets and passes them both to Julie, who raises her eyebrows at him, but accepts.

“You know you’ve got three ghosts who would have happily gone to a store to get you something if you’d asked, right?” He’s sort of teasing, but sort of not as he watches her sink back against the pillows, water bottle still in her grasp. Turning her head a little, just enough so she can see him she shoots him a small smile.

“Didn’t want to bother you guys. You're my friends, not my personal shoppers and yesterday Luke had to go to the store because we forgot milk. Don’t won’t you thinking I’m just using you for your ghostly teleportation,” she says it like a joke, but there’s a sad sort of look in her eyes. The kind of look he used to see in Reggie’s back when they were kids and he thought they’d get annoyed with him. It had never even occurred to Alex that Julie might think they’d get fed up with her.

“Jules, you let us live in your garage. For free. The least we can do is the occasional magical shop,” he shuffles down in the bed until his head is resting on a pillow and they’re eye to eye, “And anyway, you could never bother us. We kinda owe our whole existence to you and you’re family and if you need help it’s a no questions asked type situation.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

She looks at him for a moment, eyes searching his face for something before she lets out a breath, shoulders relaxing and then she’s shuffling across the bed to lay her head on his shoulder, hair tickling his cheek but he doesn’t mind. Alex brings one arm up around her back and pulls her closer, tugging the duvet up to cover them a little more. They lie in silence for a while, Alex idly drumming his fingers on her upper arm and Julie tracing the letters on his hoodie. He doesn’t mean to pop the little peaceful bubble they’ve created but a thought shoves its way to the forefront of his mind and his fingers still.

“Hey uh, so do you think paracetamol goes out of date? Because that one I gave you is at least twenty-six years old.”

**_+one_ **

Maybe, if Alex hadn’t been so wrapped up in his own head and trying to work through all of the sudden changes in his life, he would have noticed sooner.

At least, that’s what he’s going to tell himself and anyone else who might ask. He had a lot going on. He couldn’t possibly notice _everything_. Even something as big as **this**.

So yeah, he was going to blame all the crazy shit in his life for his sudden obliviousness.

The skate park was mostly empty when he got there – he forgot how long it could take to get somewhere when you couldn’t just poof into existence wherever you wanted. Being dead might have been bad, but he really missed the teleporting powers – which made sense, because the sun was starting to set and the air was growing colder. But he could hear the sound of wheels on concrete in the distance and followed it.

For a while, Alex just watched. He had never really cared all that much about skateboarding before (and honestly, he didn’t care all that much about it now, but he did like a certain skater an awful lot), but he had to admit it was fascinating to watch. The coordination and the skill and the lack of fear about falling.

Alex had always been scared about falling, physically and mentally and in love.

About hitting the ground and getting hurt and not being able to get back up. And he had fallen a lot. Out of a treehouse and down stairs. Had been pushed down. On concrete and on grass. Had been hurt. Luke and Reggie had always been there to help him back up though.

It didn’t mean it didn’t still scare him shitless. Falling.

Because what if one day he fell and there was no one to help him back up? What if one day he fell and everyone around him decided he was too much effort to help back up? What if one day he fell and staying down just seemed like the better option?

It was supposed to be one of the perks of coming back as a ghost. Of knowing that if he fell he couldn’t _physically_ get hurt, and that Luke and Reggie would be there because they were always there and he was _dead,_ falling in love shouldn’t have been a worry.

Of course, then he’d gone and got knocked off his feet, stinging palms and phantom bruises and hair flipping as the rest of the street blurred and all he could see was Willie.

And suddenly he was falling. Physically and mentally and in love.

Which was pretty fucking crazy. Who fell in love at first sight anyway? That wasn’t supposed to be a real thing. It was supposed to be something you read about or saw in silly cheesy rom-coms or from songs that people in love wrote.

So he’d met Willie, had fallen face first onto the ground, _literally_ , and into like and then into love and then into _life_ again.

It was a lot.

It was too much.

Too much change and more change and changing back and unanswered questions.

Was it really so hard to send a couple of ghost handbooks down?

So Alex had gone for a walk, to clear his head, to sort through his thoughts, to get a grip on the feeling of falling. He’d ended up at the skate park without really meaning too, not that he’d had any real destination in mind.

Sitting on a bench, he pressed two fingers to the pulse point on his wrist, counting the beats –- it’s been a few weeks and he’s still not used to having a beating heart, is always a little worried it’s all some big trick and he’ll wake up one day back as a ghost -– as he watches Willie go down a ramp and flip his board mid air.

Still being able to see with Willie was one of the many unanswered questions that he had.

(Maybe he should start making a list. Not that he thought he’d ever get any answers for them, but it might be nice. To have a list of all the questions about his death and his after life and his re-life. He could call it _Tales of BHD_ ( _before hot-dog death_ ). Julie might have some comments.)

Deep down Alex knew he shouldn’t question it. They’d been given a second chance, it was a miracle and magic and _amazing_. But he’d never done very well with questions without answers. He wished he could accept it as easily as Luke and Reggie and Julie had. That it was love or a gift or will power. It didn’t seem very likely, but he wasn’t about to argue it.

They’d been dead. Now they weren’t. It was a miracle.

He might have thought so if he could still hug Willie. But it was like when they’d first met Julie, he reached out to touch his shoulder, his hand, and passed right through him. Alex now knows how Luke felt and kind of feels bad for ever teasing him about. A re-lifer being in love with a ghost is kinda painful. And yet, he can’t seem to stop himself from seeking Willie out. No one’s ever called Alex the smart one.

There’s a sudden crashing sound, wood hitting concrete and Willie letting out a string of curse words and Alex immediately zeros in on him. On the ground. Without really stopping to think about it Alex is up off the bench and running the short distance until he’s next to him by the time Willie has pushed himself up onto his knees.

“Shit are you okay?” He reaches out a hand, to touch his shoulder, to help him up, he doesn’t know. But stops himself short. Because he can’t touch him, and every time that his hand phases through they both look away sadly.

“I’m– yeah I’m good. Had worse spills,” there’s a toothy smile on his face as he says it, but Willie’s eyes have caught on Alex’s still outstretched hand, a sadness flashes across his eyes quickly before vanishing.

Alex just stands there a little awkwardly, stuffing his hands into his pockets, as he watches Willie stand up, wincing a little at some unknown injury – which okay, when he thinks back on it, that should have been his first sign.

“What ha–” Alex starts, but his eyes catch on Willie’s knees and the blood slowly spilling down his leg from a cut. “Shit you’re bleeding! You said you were fine!” He doesn’t mean to sound so accusational, but well, how can he help if no one tells him when they're hurt?

Willie looks at him in confusion before down at his legs, eyes widening at the blood and Alex starts to worry that the other boy might faint. Does he not like the sight of blood? Oh god, he should probably sit down before he gets more hurt.

“Sit down I should have something for it, hang on.” Without thinking, Alex puts his hand on Willie’s shoulder and guides him back down to the ground, to the lip off the end of one of the ramps and makes sure he’s sat before turning his attention to his fanny pack. His fingers catch on a drum stick, a lip balm, one of Julie’s scrunchies, his inhaler, but no ziplock bag of first aid. Shit. He’d left it in Julie’s room, months ago. Because he’d been dead. And hadn’t needed any of it. _Fuck_.

He looks back at Willie, mouth opening to tell him the bad news, but Willie is already looking at him with wide, scared eyes. He has one hand gripping the side of the ramp and his other is resting over his chest. Over his heart.

“Alex,” he starts and that’s when Alex realises that he doesn’t look _scared_. It's shock. There’s tears pooling in his eyes and, like a bus hitting him, Alex realises that his hand hadn’t phased through when he’d guided him to sit down.

“You– I– _What_?” Is all he gets out, which doesn’t make any sense but Willie seems to get it because he nods his head. And then Willie is standing up, hissing a little as he unbends his knee and dimly, Alex is aware that it’s started bleeding a little again, but all that is second to the feeling of Willie carefully, slowly, gently, reaching for his hand. And holding it. Fingers linking. Solid and real and warm. With his other hand Alex reaches for his neck, lays his fingers against soft skin and feels for a pulse. For the fluttering of a heartbeat and lets out a wet laugh when he finds it. He doesn’t know when he started crying, but it doesn’t matter.

Alex uses the hand that Willie is still holding to pull the other boy towards him, lets the fingers on his neck slip around until his arm is around his back, and is pulling him into a hug he’s been craving for a month.

“How?” It’s the first thing Willie says as he pulls away, not far, because Alex had let out a small whine as he’d tried to step away and wasn’t even ashamed of it.

“I have no idea,” he shrugs, because he doesn’t. He has no answers for any of this. But he’s willing to not question it, he decides, if he and the people he loves most in the world get a second chance at life. Together. “I’m starting to not question these things and just say thank you.”

Willie laughs then, a little watery, but still bright and kind and so full of _life_ that no one would have ever known he’d been a ghost a short while ago.

“Fair enough,” they’re still stood close together, hands awkwardly intertwined between them and Alex’s fingers are tangled in his hair. But neither of them make any move to pull away. Willie pulls a face, lips twisting to the side and Alex raises an eyebrow at him, “Where the hell am I going to live now? Caleb already hated that I've been sleeping at the club, he's never gonna let me back in now."

Now it’s Alex’s turn to laugh, shaking his head a little at the question, because at least this one he has an answer too. He detangles his fingers from Willie’s hair carefully and takes a half step away, just enough for him to properly hold his hand, pulling him over to his abandoned skateboard.

“Well, lucky for you, I happen to know the coolest girl with the coolest dad who likes to take in stray used to be ghosts.”

Willie picks up his skateboard and when Alex starts to walk, pulls them to a stop, a worried little crease between his brows as he looks at him.

“Are you sure Julie will be cool with me crashing with you all? I don’t want to like, intrude or get in the way.”

“I’m pretty sure she’d re-kill me if I didn’t bring you home with me,” Alex shakes his head, a little fondly and with a little exasperation. But this time, when he starts to walk, pulling Willie along with him, his boyfriend doesn’t stop them. And if this is what unanswered questions gets him, well Alex will learn to live with them.

**Author's Note:**

> hello hi im sorry this one took so long but i literally fell out with it so many times, if you follow my tumblr you'll know it's been A Struggle. like. this felt like my mt.everest. it was a nightmare. and i still kinda hate 1-4 but here we are. I have a vague plan for the reggie 5+1 so i'll try and do that soonish. 
> 
> (also as a sidenote, if anyone is waiting for the last chapter of my lil seasons fic, it should be out sometime next week. my grandma died at the weekend and i've just not been in the mood for the amount of happy and fluff the last chapter will require from me, i'm sorry)
> 
> anyway!!!  
> i hope you're all staying safe in these hard times.  
> hope you enjoyed! comments and kudos are appreciated!! mwah xox  
> you can also find me on [tumblr](https://tangledstarlight.tumblr.com/)!


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